


Exchanging notes

by juzo_kun



Series: Double Trouble [2]
Category: Marathon (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Character Study, Fanon details, Gen, Minor Original Character(s), Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25376182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juzo_kun/pseuds/juzo_kun
Summary: Inm!Durandal decides to take some battleroid angst cleanup in his own hands. Fortunately, he has  developed enough tact, sense and interpersonal knowledge to have a probability for his plan to actually work. Unfortunately, he's the only one who has.
Series: Double Trouble [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837663
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4





	Exchanging notes

**Author's Note:**

> Many many thanks to [GeneralRADIX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneralRADIX/profile) either for beta-reading and suggesting changes and generally making this thing readable. And to let me play with their version of the characters :)
> 
> \-- warning: implicit reference to a canon-typical violent past and how this badly impacted the characters' mental health.

**Ah, one more thing.**  
The android noticed how his sort-of-equivalent this time chose to use text on the terminal. In the corner above the standard transmission data appeared the encryption signal.  
**Keep an eye on them when they spar on your ship. If you see _my_ own brick wall of testosterone with a red tinge in the eyes... beam him there and let me take care of him. I'll do the same when Callahan and Alex spar on mine.**

With 'there' came a data set of coordinates and a security clearing on a section on his Rozinante.

"...why?"

**Are you alone?**

"Yes, I am."

**Good. It's between me and... well, another me, so it's ok.**

The text cleared, and restarted on an empty screen.

**As you probably guessed, Alex has a... battleroid problem. In the sense that he's a full standard Mark IV, with the automatic response reflex still intact and working. He has a decently long fuse, but the length of said fuse is... somewhat fuzzy.**

That was exactly he needed to feel reassured. Not.

**Some of the missions are rough enough to send him _over_. So I just take him to this part of the Rozinante. It's just an unused warehouse filled with useless junk that the crew didn't find use for; there he can break stuff until he regains his senses. Don't worry, he's getting good at it. We only had a small incident at the beginning. The guy was lucky and he is still alive, even.**

Still not reassured.

**Sparring with a friendly entity _shouldn't _kick him over the edge. And anyway, Callahan looks like one that can keep him on his toes.__**

Another screen clear. 

**Hmm. Such a pity he's already, heh, _taken_.**

"I'll keep an eye on him when they spar in our gym," he replied, faking a cough. 

**Good. Let me know. You should get it above everyone else, _pal_ , I hate not knowing stuff. And about this in particular, I still don't get...**

"...why of all the things in this whole universe, I chose to download my entire construct into a humble, limited humanoid vessel?" finished the android, mocking the tone of the phrase he read or heard at least twice a day since they met and got to know themselves. 

The reply was a very vocal and supercilious "umphf!" before the communication was closed. 

...sure, _that_ Durandal was a piece of work. 

A well intentioned one, but still he felt a bit distressed about the lack of... regrets... he was showing. Any prodding from him about the other one’s feelings on the matter of having caused the ruin of the Marathon and the death of the colonists, was regularly deflected with the "the good of the few had to be sacrificed for the good of the many" he already was so familiar with, or simply finished in some interminable pseudo-philosophic neverending blather. 

The mere fact of this continued deflection was telling on its own, anyway. 

\--- 

He followed the advice: he kept a discreet but steady eye on the two when they went to spar in their gym. Well, not that he needed an excuse to look at Vince working out. Fortunately, everything seemed to go well, if only for the fact that Vincent seemed to get the upper hand more often than not. But Alex looked really chill about that. Or, if he didn't like it, he didn't show. 

Difficult to tell with that one. 

To Durandal, this last workout they had seemed like every other one: a nice show of what two augmented humans could do, with the bonus of a scantily clad Vince, then a bit of chat between the two while cooling off (literally, in the case of Alex; whoa did that guy like his showers cold, if the signal from the plumbing sensors were correct) and then everyone came back to their places on their respective ships. Their shared bed, as in the case of Vince.

If only the other Durandal would understand. There were _so many _reasons for downloading his construct to an android vessel. The moment he felt in the true sense how even an AI can get touch-starved, and how much, for example.__

____

He found a slight silver lining in all the insane mess that went into the two continua overlapping and getting the two versions of him (and the Rozinante, and security officer, and the crew -- _he_ had humans on his ship!) and that was seeing Vince meeting one of his own, so to say, who was there not to kill him but just get to know one another and have a bit of fun in working out together and chatting and exchanging gossip about the respective Durandals. He felt how for that bit of time Vince’s constant inner turmoil was... momentarily subdued. 

____

Small graces, but one has to take what destiny gave. 

____

But that evening Vince was... less chatty. Absorbed in his thoughts. He quipped some small talk before bedtime, the usual, but for sure, something happened. 

____

Durandal gently prodded him. The only thing he obtained was Vince recommending that he avoid startling Alex or try to grab him if he seemed stressed out or lost in thoughts. 

____

Quite standard fare for a combatant, he tried to reassure Vince. Develop quick reflexes or succumb, right? He wondered if Alex spilled the whole thing to Vince, as Durandal did with him. 

____

He inferred that probably, yes, he did. And this affected Vince in a bad way. But Vince remained an impenetrable wall whenever his inner feelings were concerned. And Durandal didn't want to break Alex's privacy. 

____

Well, maybe just a little. _Next time I'll keep the audio on,_ he thought. Still Durandal was turning this thing over and over his mind. Vince wouldn’t tell, ever, and who knew if Alex would ever get it on its own, if any of what was understood of the people skills of the latter was true. (i.e. quite non-existent.) 

____

He waited until Vince was sleeping. 

____

He made a rapid calculation -- shifts in the other Rozinante didn't overlap exactly. Alex was probably still awake, but who knew? Better to ask. 

____

Durandal went to the main terminal console of the main bridge and asked for a channel directly to, well... Durandal. 

____

**Good evening, or shall I say good night? These humans and their circadian rhythms. Guess you're here for a chat?** The reply was in text. Not unusual. 

____

"I’m asking if I could talk to Alex about something private." 

____

**I'll graciously ignore the fact you're treating me as a mere secretary, and magnanimously open a channel with him nonetheless. He's awake, by the way.**

____

Boy, was that AI _obnoxious_ when he decided to be. Was he so obnoxious too, early on in life? Durandal felt a tinge of doubt. "No, I mean, in person. It's just my way." 

____

He could _feel_ the jealousy seeping from the green characters on the black screen. 

____

**Ok, if you say so. Give me your lock clearance and I'll get you to him. I'm letting him know right now.**

____

Durandal input the data in the terminal transponder, and after the usual weird beam effect found himself in front of a door. 

____

He knocked. "This is Durandal; may I come in?" 

____

"Uh. Hi," came Alex's voice. 

____

From _behind_ him. 

____

Durandal turned and realized that he wasn't in a corridor, but in fact on _the other side_ of Alex’s door, and that his namesake had beamed him right into the room. 

____

He facepalmed. _I should have known._ Then, to Alex: "Eh... uhm... sorry?" 

____

Alex was still as a statue, looking at the android like he had just sprouted another head, but didn't say anything. 

____

Durandal tried something to break the embarrassment. "I asked _him_ if I could meet with you, but I didn't mean for him to drop me _directly_ in your room! Doesn’t anyone have manners on this ship?" 

____

"Ah, this? Standard," replied Alex. He shrugged. "But. You _knock? And wait?_? That's new." 

____

Durandal understood the origin of Alex' amazement. "...getting used to the, uhm, etiquette aboard this ship might be _interesting_ , for a certain value of ‘interesting’," he murmured, still a little bashful. 

____

While he was speaking, he glanced through the room. Which was quite spacious and of a strange shape, following the intricate architecture of this Rozinante, but (probably deliberately) without any blind spot, and it was even more frugal than Vince's, if that was possible. And way messier. 

____

The ‘bed’ was just a bunch of blankets thrown above a couple of crates; near it was the omnipresent terminal, along with many weapons neatly aligned in a rack on one of the walls, a table, a locker, some other crates and various mechanical and analog instruments and thingamajigs scattered around the floor. Judging from the regular angling of the various tubing and panels and structure, and the distinct lack of retina-searing colours, this was likely in the Jjaro part of the starship. 

____

The owner of the room was sitting on the makeshift bed, tinkering with something Durandal didn't recognize at first. 

____

"Old RTFM sensor," said Alex, showing him the object. And apparently recalled those things called 'manners' because he added, "Take a seat?" pointing at the place on the blankets beside him. 

____

Durandal did. Alex nodded to the terminal and said, "D told me you wanna chat." 

____

"Yes; I know it’s complicated but... Vince won't tell you, but there's something you have to know about him." 

____

Alex placed the sensor on one of the crates close to the bed and folded his arms across his chest. 

____

"If he won't tell, then it’s not my thing to know, innit?" 

____

Durandal had grown so acquainted with the faint aura of 'don't mess with me' that was intrinsic in Vincent, he realized how seeing the same thing on another person he wasn't so familiar with made him a bit wary. "I mean... Vince won't say it directly, but I'm sure that he would agree with you knowing this. Because you told him... your version. So he’d want you to know about his, but telling you about it directly is... too much for him. I don't want him to rehash his trauma." 

____

Alex didn't move a single eyelash. 

____

Durandal silently questioned if it was because he explained himself badly, or if that was one of the things that the other Durandal didn't exaggerate for once, about Alex's capacity of getting the subtler details of interpersonal relationship intricacies. Which his counterpart once curtly described with _Negligible. Use small words._

____

Alex’s face was his usual one: a messy mop of hair half covering his black eyes and chiseled features, now wearing an attentive expression. Durandal was trying to explain himself again when Alex uncrossed his arms, relaxed his stance and went: "You sure know him. Go on." 

____

_If only_. "Well, it's something that had to do with the Third Martian War. And MIDA." 

____

At the word ‘MIDA’, Alex clenched his fists and changed expression in a way that made Durandal wince and slightly shift on his seat, finding himself _really_ uncomfortable all of a sudden. 

____

Alex grumbled something Durandal interpreted as quite the string of profanities, at least the words he was able to detect, finishing with a "...frag MIDA, frag everything they did” practically growled through his teeth. Fortunately, Alex managed to subdue his boiling rage for the time being; it became clear where his mind was about this, and they were on the same side. 

____

"We're exactly on the same wavelength, I see," commented the android, slightly more relaxed. Not much. 

____

"No memories. Erased," said Alex. "But I've read stuff. Makeba was in the middle of it. UESC plant in MIDA. High clearance. She knows a lot. Nasty stuff." 

____

Durandal's eyes widened. The earth-born woman with the big scar on her face and probably more on the rest of her body, and the military-grade eye implant, acting as a commander of security. _How much… how many lives have they ruined?_ This time, it was Durandal's turn to clench his fists. 

____

"She's clear. She hates MIDA and UESC. As does everyone aboard here," said Alex, with a calmness he probably didn't have anymore. "What did those sewer roaches do to Callahan?" 

____

Direct as usual. At least he was rendering the whole thing slightly easier. "Well... he can go into a sort of--strict combat mode," he tried, deliberately avoiding the official terminology. "You know that he was converted while alive, yes? He ...learned this... on his own, to shut down his emotions--" _His humanity._ "--when things get dire. A defense mechanism. Then he crashes… he closes into himself.” 

____

Silence. A nod. 

____

“During the war--at the end, when MIDA was on its last throes, he was the one assigned to... cleanup. He was in this mindset the entire time. He didn't tell me directly, but I was able to get the whole story piece by piece. He remembers it all." 

____

Another thoughtful nod. 

____

Durandal’s voice fell to a whisper. "Hunting and putting down _malfunctioning_ battleroids." He stressed the word. 

____

"Like me," said Alex, face like a stone. 

____

**Hear, hear. MIDA is a festering bloat of radioactive scum in every continuum it infects, and water is wet. Let me guess: the defective battleroids started to show that bothersome programming bug, namely, _free will_?**

____

Durandal practically jumped several feet from his seat. The terminal came to life all of a sudden, with the unmistakable voice of his namesake. 

____

Then he came to his senses enough to scream, "HOW-- WHAT THE-- YOU LISTENED TO EVERYTHING?!?" 

____

**Pal, don't tell me you never kept an ear on what everything and everyone did before scrunching yourself into that vessel, because I will not believe you. And don't worry, I'm not one that goes spilling secrets around. After all, I didn't tell anyone how my bodyguard here, to whom incidentally I have just an established and well running professional relationship and nothing else, is a battleroid.**

____

Alex rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks." 

____

Durandal was still split between anger, embarrassment and shock. He turned to the terminal, then to Alex, hand on hips. "Why didn't you two tell me?!?" 

____

"Sorry. Habit," they replied in perfect unison, but completely opposed tone: sarcastic for the AI, sincerely contrite for Alex. 

____

Then the AI continued, his tone switching abruptly; Durandal had never heard him be so serious. **On this ship, all information regarding Mjolnir and MIDA gets encrypted. Rule one: you don't talk about MIDA and Mars. Rule two: see rule one. Rule three: you _can_ talk about UESC, but at your own peril. There's a reason the humans of this crew decided to follow a murderous, rampant AI getting behind some kind of alien blurb in a stolen Pfhor ship rather than go back to Sol.**

____

Durandal was so amazed from that bout of self-criticism that it left him speechless. But he got the message, feeling a bit relieved. 

____

He recalled what Alex said just before, too. _She hates MIDA and UESC as does everyone aboard here._

____

_...as does everyone aboard here._

____

Alex’s comment was, "I _still_ want to kill whoever did this to Callahan." Something in the apparent calmness of his tone sent the equivalent of a shiver down the android's back. 

____

**Weeeell, you already took care of *ahem* some of this, at least in a certain sense,** was the reply from the terminal, but it was directed to Alex, with a strangely petulant tone. **And this deprived ME of the pleasure of squashing the bug directly!**

____

Durandal was starting to form half a dozen of questions to himself just on from last exchange, forming scenarios in his mind. Scenarios that required him to remember horrible things and risk putting himself in a bad state of mind. He wisely decided to let this particular subject fall. For now. 

____

He was so lost in his own thoughts he didn’t notice that Alex had stood up and came close to him. 

____

And, wonder of wonders, he put a hand on his shoulder. A simple, _human_ gesture, so weird coming from him. "That's stuff to tell another time.” He glanced at the terminal, then looked at the android. ”Thanks for telling me; I'll keep this in mind. I don't wanna hurt people. Callahan most of all." 

____

Durandal nodded. "Thank you." 

____

**Say, Alex, for once you said something sensible. I'll keep it in the calendar as a day to celebrate. Maybe staying with those two might actually do you some good. And if our relationship wasn't exclusively professional--"** The android felt suddenly aware of both the warmth of Alex's hand on his shoulder and the clear-cut sensation that someone was sending him virtual knives through the terminal speaker. **\--I might even become a little jealous.**

____

Durandal couldn't avoid a chuckle. The deepness of denial of the other AI was so blatant that he was starting to think it was all an elaborate ploy to pull his leg. But at the moment he decided to avoid further investigations. 

____

He got some sort of closure on what was bugging him. But he also got enough gossip to keep Vince entertained for days. He mused if Alex just played along or really was that dense about this particular detail. 

____

Alex ignored 'his' Durandal. "How's Callahan ‘bout parkour? Lotsa space here, cool for a race or two. Usually I go with K’tnak, but he cheats. He can fly." 

____

Ok. He was that dense. 

____

But this was something he gladly left to their own devices. _Two_ emotionally stunted cyborgs were too much for his hands, to say nothing of the other Durandal. “I think he will be fine! No bad memories for him about this, I’m pretty sure.” 

____

Alex nodded and made what he knew was the _OK_ sign of the human crew, a loosely-closed fist with the thumb up. 

____

"Thanks, everyone, for the hospitality," Durandal said, smiling a little. "Could you send me back aboard my Rozie? Right side of the door, possibly. Please and thank you." 

____

**With great pleasure, honoured guest. Coordinates and clearance?**

____

He input the data in the terminal, going directly for his bedroom as he was starting to feel tired and a bit groggy, and he didn’t want to be accosted by anyone on the way from the teleport bays to his room. He spared a few seconds to make a parting gesture and hear Alex murmuring "he said _please_ and _thank you_ ", and after the usual beam effect he found himself right on his bed. 

____

Two feet above. 

____

Vince, fortunately, remained mostly asleep, and seemed to muster only the energy to burble "mmwhat thefff’re ya doin'" and then turn on the other side hogging all the blankets. 

____

"I just had an interesting chat, but that’s for tomorrow," said Durandal, internally cursing his _pal_ and making mental notes about specifying the z-axis next time, and unleashing L’hmuria, S’pht Master Of Pranks And Weaver Of Gossip, on the Rozie’s BBS. 

____

"But now it's time to sleep." 

____

Durandal placed a hand on Vince’s chest, carefully avoiding the platings, as he always did. He was mostly certain that he did the right thing. “Good night,” he whispered, and got to falling asleep himself. He didn’t even try to wrestle the blankets back. 

____

Not one of the usual hectic days of missions and combat and such, but it was a tiring day nonetheless for everyone. _Not every battle is fought on the field, indeed._

____

**Author's Note:**

> "I'm not sure I'll be able to get Inm!Durandal voice correctly" said her, while immediately proceeding in writing three thousand words of the two Durandals bickering with the faint excuse of the aforementioned battleroid(s) angst. I left the event causing the crossover undefined on purpose, heh heh heh.


End file.
